In TransVisionaries, trans activist Raquel Willis talks with trans elders who helped kick off and shape the trans rights movement as we know it today.

Dee Dee Chamblee — known to most as Mrs. Dee Dee — has been a pillar in the Atlanta trans community for decades, working with trans women of color who engage in sex work and who live with HIV/AIDS. Her formidable organizing and storytelling skills have galvanized and inspired young activists for years. Originally from Decatur, a suburb of Atlanta, Chamblee ran away from home as a teenager in the early 1970s and found affirmation from local drag legends like The Lady Chablis and Tina Devore.

Chamblee’s early experience as a sex worker, as well as her time spent navigating the criminal justice system while being wrongly incarcerated, has informed her work and advocacy. She founded LaGender Inc. in 2001 to provide local transgender people with education and resources on HIV prevention and intervention, homelessness, mental health, and wrongful incarceration. In the nearly 20 years of its existence, LaGender Inc. has served as a safe haven for trans people interested in social justice and learning the skills necessary for survival in a world that tells them they shouldn’t exist.

In June 2011, Chamblee earned the title "Champion of Change" by the Obama Administration for her decades-long work in advocating for transgender women of color living with HIV and AIDS. Currently, she serves on the Transgender Law Center’s Positively Trans National Advisory Board. She continues to carry on the legacy of Southern Black trans resistance through La Gender, Inc. and care for her movement children with each passing day. We caught up with Chamblee to discuss her activism, childhood, spirituality, and her thoughts on the current iteration of the trans movement.

Imoto Harney

Mrs. Dee Dee, how did you get into activism?

I got tired of being misgendered and the way they would treat us [trans women of color] while we were trying to access healthcare. I just got tired of it — I didn’t want to go with the flow anymore. We had an organization called Outreach and the director there let me start a support group. It inspired me to get my first job as myself after years of sex work, and I became a peer counselor at a clinic. Before that, I thought it was impossible to have a job as a woman when I was pulling tricks because they just didn't grow girls as tall as me and with my [deeper] voice. After that job, I went other places and interviewed, but they kept discriminating against me, so I created my own job. That’s how La Gender started. It grew from the [support group] meetings.

What were your experiences like growing up? What was your family like and how did they react to your identity?

When I was six years old, a boy pushed me against a wall and kissed me in the [school] bathroom. I saw stars and fireworks. I didn’t understand what it was or why I felt like that. Then, one day when I was home, my babysitter was washing our clothes. She had left out a green corduroy dress and she put it on me. I just leaped and danced and danced. When my mom got home, I ran out to the car for her to see me. It looked like she wanted to destroy me. She said, ‘Get out of that dress. Don’t ever want to see you in something like that ever again.’ The little girl went back in. She stayed hid.

When I was 15, my friends told me there was a bar downtown where you could wear women’s clothes. I couldn’t believe girls were actually dressing up in the day time. I borrowed my sister’s clothes, snuck out, and caught a bus. That’s when I met Lady Chablis, Tina Devore, and all of the girls at the Onyx Lounge. Then, one day they pushed me out on stage. I became Donna Summers and performed “Last Dance.” I soon left home and went to a runaway lodge.

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There’s a lot of younger organizers and activists coming up now. Do you have any tips for folks doing this work?

Just follow your heart and passion. Don’t accept “no” as an answer if you’re passionate about what you’re feeling and want to do. You have not been brought into existence just to serve yourself, but to serve others and be a part of the world progressing. Put a smile on someone’s face. Give someone a hug and let them know how special they are — it’s like a light goes off in their face. You have to let people know that there is no one else created like them under the sun.

What do you do for self-care, Miss DeeDee?

I meditate a lot and I pray. That keeps me grounded and keeps me not on the edge, so I won’t react to any and everything that comes across my plate. I will assess the situation before I react to it...most of the time. My husband can push my buttons real quick. I’ll snap off at the mouth and two minutes later I’m repenting.

How did you meet your husband, Ron?

We got together in 1990, but I had known him for seven or eight years before that. He was the DJ at a club called The Marquette. I was doing shows and I needed him to mix me some music because all of the girls loved DJ Ron. He knew how to get the girls on the floor. I knew he was a working man and he took good care of women. He was a tall ‘ol good lookin’ red thang.

Since a lot has changed throughout your life for trans women of color, how do you feel about the movement now?

I’m so proud of y’all. I thank God that I’m able to have lived to see y’all come. La Gender’s not my organization — it’s for the community. We needed a voice because we didn’t exist. I’m proud of Micky [Bradford], Toni-Michelle [Williams], Dean [Steed], and Kleopatra [McGlothin]. And all the children out there in California and across the country. Every day I see another girl going to college or law school. It overwhelms me.

I saw you up there at the Women’s March speaking. I felt like that was our Martin Luther King moment. I kept on crying. I couldn’t believe one of my girls made it there. I’m grateful for y’all doing what you’re doing. It was a sacrifice and there are many that aren’t here today that did a lot. So I say thank you to them and to y’all. I want y’all to go on and do bigger and better things.

Well, I thank you so much for your words. You are a Mother of the Movement. After all is said and done, what do want your legacy to be?

I [want] trans folks to know their spiritual power and that they’re more than what their physical bodies are. There is nothing as powerful as the spirit of the trans woman. There’s so much power that we haven’t harnessed to its fullest yet, but we’re getting there. That’s always been my ulterior motive. I know once [trans folks] get that connection with their spirit, they will have the wisdom and power to handle anything that comes their way.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Raquel Willis is a Black queer transgender activist and writer dedicated to inspiring and elevating marginalized individuals, particularly transgender women of color. She is also a National Organizer for the Transgender Law Center based in Oakland, CA.

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